


afraid

by ilivrum



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, Halloween, Haunted Houses, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 07:30:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12743811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilivrum/pseuds/ilivrum
Summary: Wash does not like haunted houses. When he's left behind, he runs into someone just as scared as he is.





	afraid

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this maybe three years ago and only just found it again today. Realised I never posted it on here whoops. Anyway this is like my way of getting back into posting fanfic again after a two year hiatus.

“Let’s go to a haunted house, they said,” You mumble to yourself. “It’ll be fun, they said.”

“C’mon, Wash,” York says with a laugh. “It’s Hallowe’en, dude! It’ll be fun.”

“You always say that and then you abandon me!”

“I promise we won’t this time,” Carolina smirks. South gives a derisive laugh that doesn’t fill you with confidence. 

You look up at the haunted house (haunted mansion, more like it), at the flickering lights behind the translucent windows and the creaking hanging baskets full of dead flowers. There’s a rocking chair on the front porch, a table sat in front of it. There’s a lady sat in the seat, dressed completely in black, taking payment and handing out tickets.

You don’t want to go to a haunted house, not with York and the others. Every single time you do something like this for Hallowe’en, it ends with you being abandoned by the others because you are, in their words, a complete and utter wuss.

You just don’t like scary things; your friends, however, do.

The inside of the house is pretty much like any generic haunted house. There are swinging red and orange lights, cobwebs hanging from the walls and on the floor. The lights flicker every so often; there’s skulls sitting on tables, threadbare rugs on the floor. A grandfather clock in another room is ticking loudly.

You stop for half a second to look at a painting on the wall - you’re sure the eyes are moving - and when you turn around, the others are gone.

“Great,” you mutter, teeth clenched. “Just great.”

You pull your jacket tighter around yourself and just keep on moving, resolving yourself with the fact that the mansion can’t be so big and that you’ll find them again.

Except it’s a big damn house, all the rooms are connected, and sometimes doors swing shut and lock themselves. And you’re sure that there’s someone watching you.

You make your way up to the second floor, barely get your foot on the landing, and a white, glowing figure wrapped in bloodstained sheets comes swooping down the corridor from the ceiling, it’s feet off the ground and skeletal hand outstretched.

It’s just a mannequin on a zip-line, of course. But you don’t realise that at first.

Screaming, you tear off down the corridor. You run into the room at the very end of the corridor, skid over the threshold and slam the door in the specter’s face.

And then you turn into the other person.

For a good ten seconds, the two of you just scream at each other’s faces. You don’t realise you’ve grabbed hold of the guy’s arms, and that the guy is holding your arms in return, until you both stop screaming at each and realise that you are in fact not actors and just two idiots who scared each other.

You stare at the guy. The guy stares back.

“Uh.”

He let’s go of the guy’s arms.

“Well, that’s a way to meet someone,” the guy says with a grin. You can’t make out his features very well in the dark, but you can see that he has very dark skin, long dreads tied back in a ponytail, and unnaturally bright bluish-green eyes.

“Y-Yeah,” You manage to say. Your legs are shaking a little, and you’re still pumped with adrenaline.

“I take it you’re lost too?”

“Friends abandoned me.”

“Same.” The guy steps back, running a hand over the top of his head. “You wanna stick together? I mean, y’know, we’re both on our own and lost and we may as well since this place is butt-fuck terrifying but if you don’t then I understand.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m Tucker, by the way.”

“Washington.”

Tucker turns out to be just as much of a wuss as you. At one point, an actor jumps out of the shadows and roars at the two of you, and Tucker shrieks and backpedals, tripping over some cobwebs on the floor and falling flat on his ass. The two of you end up glued at the hip as you creep your way through the house, grabbing onto each other and holding on tightly whenever the slightest thing scares you.

The end attraction of the haunted house - the home stretch down the corridor to the back door, to the exit - entails three separate actors chasing you. Neither you or Tucker knew this, so the two of you both shriek when the three actors appear out of nowhere and tear off towards the door.

You trip on something - a cobweb, from the looks of it - and stumble, almost fall. Tucker turns, grabs your hand -

The two of you fall out of the door and stumble into the back garden of the house, which is full of lingering people.

You’re still holding Tucker’s hand.

You realise this a second too late, when you hear the wolf whistle and look up to see York, Carolina and the others giggling at the sight of you, sweaty and holding hands with a complete stranger.

You still haven’t let go.

Tucker’s smirking at you. “So, do you want my number?”

You snort and you let go.

When you leave, his number is written on the back of your hand.


End file.
